


Bucky's First (After the Soldier)

by Apprendere



Series: The Many Hairstyles of James Buchanan Barnes [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Arm maintenance, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, But they're all on their way to being functional and content, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Not everything is all right, Pre-Relationship, Tony's workshop, if you want to see it that way - Freeform, maintenance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9048982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apprendere/pseuds/Apprendere
Summary: Bucky learns how to kludge a bun using only a rubber band. He also gets an inkling that he may enjoy allowing people to play with his hair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, so, obviously, mistakes are mine. I only ran through editing once, because I was close enough I wanted to post on christmas gosh darn it!
> 
> Apologies if I messed up the formatting. If it's bad I'll fix it later.  
> EDIT: Tried to fix some paragraph spacing, no change to the text.
> 
> This wasn’t intended to be this shippy. I just wanted to write about Bucky regaining a sense of self and identity and confidence beginning by taking control of his appearance through hairstyling. I had too many thoughts about this, so only one, about Bucky’s first hairstyle is in this fic. I may write the rest eventually, but, school.

    Bucky… isn’t quite back on his feet yet. Hell, he’s only just managed to work up the courage to ask Tony to do routine _maintenance_ on his arm.

    He’s still a little stunned by Tony’s turnaround regarding their relationship. The soldier murdered Maria and Howard and Tony has moved from wanting to avenge his mother, to regretting that Bucky got to Howard first.

    Make no mistake, Bucky has been trying to attone, to stop even thinking like the Asset. The legal side of that process has been stalled by Tony, who set some lawyers and a strong recommendation for a few appointments with psychologists and therapists for Bucky. He still wavers between wanting to claim full responsibility for the Asset’s actions, to make what amends he can, and wanting to run because he never chose that. Bucky is starting to realize that neither option may be the right one.

    He cannot change what has already been done, the ripples from his actions already set in motion. But, maybe he can choose what new ripples he makes. Maybe he can orchestrate some destructive interference with the actions he took under Hydra's control.

    Maybe that’s what Tony saw. The Soldier trying to absolve unforgivable sins. Stark’s not loud about it, but the philanthropic money trail was about as obvious as Iron Man’s colors.

    In any case, he takes a deep breath and walks out his door. If he doesn’t move now, he’s going to talk himself out of making his repair date in Tony’s workshop. His steps are soft as precise as he attempts to focus.

    He centers his attention on the air flowing in, and out, of his lungs as the elevator descends. Mentally rehearsing the maintenance process has, helped. Maintenance in Hydra was never... pleasant. Damage meant the Asset had been sloppy. The Soldier was meant to be a perfect weapon. Failure meant pain. The Soldier is no longer a mere tool. Now, he is a person and he knows, in his brain, that this is not a matter of failure to maintain the arm. His gut and lungs disagreed violently the first time maintenance was proposed.

    Jarvis’ voice pulls him up, out of the depths of memory. “Sir is ready for you.” Bucky’s head jerks up and he realizes the elevator doors are open. One last meditative breath, and Bucky moves.

    Tony is by a low lab bench covered in blankets and pillows. The glass workshop doors slide open and the sound of Tony ineffectively scolding DUM-E drift through. Apparently DUM-E wants to spend time playing with Bucky’s arm instead of holding Tony’s tools for the repair and cleaning they’ve planned for today.

    “Whether or not you get to play with him is Bucky’s choice. The reason he’s coming is to smooth out the issues that the arm is having, not to see you. You can ask him after, but you’re not, _not,_ going to hound hi-” DUM-E wheels in a circle around Tony, emitting a plaintive whine. Tony turns with DUM-E and catches sight of Bucky.

“Oh. Hello there gorgeous.” Tony holds him arms out in a welcoming gesture. “Jarvis didn’t say you were on your way. Or here already.” Tony’s voice is flat and wry as he drops his arms.

Dum-E bumps into Tony’s hip and ducks to look up at Tony. “No, no puppy dog eyes, you know that doesn’t work. Bucky’s arm needs to be fixed before you can play with him.”

Bucky smiles.

Tony clears his throat as DUM-E backs off. “We’re ready if you are.” DUM-E waggles in enthusiastic agreement, knocking over the tray of tools on the counter.

    Tony sighs, shoulders slumping. Apparently spilled tools are pout worthy, as Tony demonstrates. “I’ll be ready in a couple minutes.”

DUM-E whirrs and ducks his claw, slowly backing away.

    Tony looks back to Bucky and a small smile graces his lips. “Feel free to sit and get comfy. I don’t know how long getting your arm to good working order is going to take, so it’s up to you how much we do at a time. As soon as you feel even a bit uncomfortable, or want to leave, tell me and I’ll get to a safe stop as soon as possible.”

    Bucky grunts and bobs his head faintly. Tony nods back and whirls off to re-collect appropriately sterile and dust-free tools.

    Before he agreed to any work on his arm, he talked to Tony about Hydra’s maintenance of the Asset. It wasn’t the chair they wiped his memories in, but the table they laid him on was just as cold and unyielding. The restraints dug into his skin, metal edges biting deeper with his slightest twitches. They turned off the arm’s motor functions, but never the sensors. Those stayed on, blaring error and damage signals through Bucky’s nerves to the last possible second.

    He had to talk Tony into completely shutting down the arm to repair it. Bucky can’t stand the thought of the soldier’s instincts flaring while Tony’s trying to make it better. He doesn’t need to lengthen his list of sins. Covering Bucky’s seat with soft, comforting, cushy blankets, hadn’t been talked about, but Tony obviously remembered the discussion. Even in the face of remembering Hydra in excruciating detail, that sparked momentary warmth in his chest..

    He sinks into the fluff pile, landing around chair height, Tony won’t have trouble accessing the arm. Bucky arranges himself among the hoard of blankets and quilts and pillows. The angle of recline sets his teeth on edge even with all the differences in front of his face and under his fingers. The position may remind him of Hydra, but, he reasons, he _knows_ , there are only so many ways the shoulder joint is accessible. The fabric on his skin and cushy pillows against his back are impossible to confuse with Hydra’s harsh confines. Bucky homes in on that tangible evidence.

    Tony sets a new tray of tools at his elbow. “Ready Buckster?”

    Flexing his stiffly clenched fingers, he nods. His hair falls around his face as he eyes the gleaming silver of his hand.

“Here.” Tony spins and stalks to his usual workbench. “Your hair keeps falling on your shoulder. If you don’t want it caught inside your arm-.”  A screwdriver rolls off the edge as Tony rummages. “Aha! Here.” Tony brandishes a hair tie. “Keep it. Pepper won’t mind. They always migrate down here and she never takes them back.”

    Bucky blinks and extends his hand. He pinches it between his flesh pointer finger and thumb, holding it away from his body like a tiny venomous snake. “What do I-?” His voice is rough from disuse. “I’ve never-”

    Tony pulls over a chair and Bucky can hear the raised eyebrows as Tony speaks, “It’s not going to bite you.”

Bucky is staring too intensly at the … rubber band … to check Tony’s face for sarcasm. Plopping down, Tony continues “I can show you how Pepper tucks her hair up when I manage to trap her into helping down here.”

    Bucky considers. The Asset never had such choices. His memories are returning, both those from the Winter Soldier and before. Every time he’s addressed, there’s a fraction of a second he waits to hear an order. Every choice, no matter how small, takes concentration. While the opportunity still feels like a privilege, the continual decisions of daily life sometimes overwhelm him.

    Fortunately, he thinks, there’s no decision to make. His hair _must_ be the out of the way for his arm to be repaired. Bucky nods.

    “All right. Pull your hair back into a ponytail and start twisting it until it buckles, and then let it curl around the base.” Tony fidgets, spinning a delicate wrench up and down his fingers.

    Bucky complies, taking care to avoid pinching hair in his metal finger joints.

    “Keep going until you’ve only got a little left, and put the rubber band around the whole thing. You want the band around the very base and a bit before the end of your hair. That’s what’s holding the whole thing up.”

    Bucky pauses, trying to figure out how to get the band around his hair from where it’s tucked against the bun in his hand. He shuffles his hands, holding the bun with the metal one and pulling the hair tie around.

    “Loop it around about three times if you can. That should hold it securely.” Tony rearranges the tools again, eyes on the tools instead of Bucky’s raised and flexing arms.

    He hooks the hair tie around another time and lowers his hands. Except. One of his fingers seems to be stuck. A small but precisely annoying pain tugs the middle finger of the metal hand when he tries to pull his hand away. That’s not supposed to happen. Doing hair is simple and he messed up. Sloppy. The asset is to be precise and efficient in all matters. Even Bucky, before the war, before Hydra, knew how to make himself up and look nice.

Bucky shakes his head, the caught strands pulling. Perspective. Keep it in perspective. Bucky never learned how to deal with long hair. Bucky kept it short before everything happened, and occasionally being roped into braiding his sister’s hair does not quite apply to fixing his own hair. This is minor. Tony won’t care.

Bucky isn’t the Soldier anymore. He still has the skills, but the conditioning is on its way out. Bucky’s own effort with support from mental and medical health professionals, and the Avengers, has made his mind more his own. He can deal with this. Bucky is still ready and waiting for his arm to stop feeling gritty when it moves. For that to happen, Tony needs to be able to get into it and repair and clean it.

    He won’t let his hair win this. He will conquer hair. At least, he will when it stops attacking his hand. He may need help this time. At least he got the rubber band in before his hair attacked. He lets all but the entangled finger drop.

“Tony?”

    Tony snaps his head up from rearranging the tools again.

    Bucky wiggles his fingers.

    Tony snorts and mostly succeeds in smothering the giggle that follows.

    Bucky doesn’t succeed in not glaring.

    “You know, if you want to wait, you can just tell me. You don’t need to go so far as to flip me the bird.” The giggle bubbles through Tony’s voice and perhaps Bucky can see the humor.

    Bucky sighs and actively decides not to double the gesture.

    Tony snickers softly as he makes grabby hands at Bucky’s head. ”Here, I can help.”

    He acquiesces, ducking to give better access. Tony’s hands are gentle even as Bucky hears the grin in Tony’s words. “I think I need to get into this mechanism anyway. You said the movement is gritty?” Bucky doesn’t have a chance to reply before Tony continues. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to get all of this out.”

Tony works, humming just on the edge of hearing, unwinding the hair around Bucky’s hand. A few at a time, the sharp pulls of individual hairs relax as Tony frees Bucky’s hair.

    “Yeah, no.” Tony leans back just far enough to look Bucky in the eye. “Some of the hair got _inside_ the joints. I’m not going to be able to get that out without getting into your hand.”

    “Cut it.” Bucky says, extracting a pocket knife and dropping it on his knee. “The worst part of it is the … stickiness, in the fingers. I can manage with it, but I don’t want to and if we can get to work, I won’t have to.”

    Tony focuses sharply, examining Bucky’s face. “It’s your arm. You have final say on all decisions, you can always wait-”

    “I did my waiting.” Bucky purses his lips and takes the seconds Tony is stunned to collect himself. Bucky is still fine, he’s just ready to start the maintenance already. “Seventy years of it.” His experience in Hydra had some useful outcomes, Bucky likes using the Winter Soldier’s deadpan. “In Azkaban.”

    Tony snorts and catches himself. “Wait,” Tony cocks his head, “that’s not on the list for weeks. Who’s messing up the movie education schedule? If Clint did it, I’ll-”

    “Arm.” Bucky grunts harshly. “Just-. Keep talking, but get moving.”

    Tony starts, flipping open the knife and trying to avoid pulling Bucky’s hair any more as he cuts the last few strands. “That’s what she said. But really, if you’re okay, I can’t just drop that “stickiness” comment from earlier. I’d say that I need to know how it happened. In excruciating detail.” Tony’s eyebrows waggle loudly. “I can’t say I don’t appreciate tech that way, so I shouldn’t judge.” Tony closes and sets the knife back on Bucky’s leg.

    Bucky covers his face with both hands and glares at Tony from between his fingers. He want’s to snark back, compare his arm to masturbating with an Iron Man suit, but doesn’t think he’ll be able to keep up the chain of snark and counter-snark after that.

    “Want me to redo your hair? It looked nice until it decided to flip me off.”

    Bucky sighs and nods. Tony leans back in and takes out the hair tie, being careful not to make anymore knots. Tony cards his fingers through Bucky’s hair, gently removing minor tangles. Bucky’s eyes drift closed as Tony’s fingers run firmly along his scalp. His shoulders relax, tension he didn’t realize was there flowing away. Fingertips brush his neck as Tony tries to gather the wisps of hair at Bucky’s nape.

    If Tony spent much longer than necessary smoothing Bucky’s hair, no one would tell. Jarvis would say his privacy protocols are for discretion unless there is due cause. Tony would never openly admit it, and Bucky certainly doesn’t care. Bucky would not mind if it just kept happening, actually.

    Tony eventually pulls it together and loops the hair band around the loose twist, securing Bucky’s hair.

    Blearily, Bucky opens his eyes. Tony is smiling softly, watching Bucky refocus.

    “So then,” If Bucky was more alert, he would call Tony’s voice tender. As it is, Bucky only notices Tony is quieter, in a happy way. “Any special requests beyond smoothing out the hand mechanism? No promises I’ll be able to do it right now, but I’ll see what I can do while I’m already deep in there.”

    Bucky huffs, choosing to ignore the potential innuendo in favor of staying relaxed. “If you can keep my fingers from grabbing my hair like that again, I’d appreciate it. Being able to get my hair out of the way would be nice.”

    The ridiculousness and tenderness have completely derailed Bucky’s earlier anxiety. His shoulders and jaw are loose, breathing smooth and slow even as Tony settles into a low running commentary while preparing to open Bucky’s arm.

**Author's Note:**

> So I just realized bucky doesn’t speak until about 1100 words in. This even though Tony gets his first line out 450 words in. Hmmm.  
> I absolutely melt when my hair is played with, that definitely influenced writing Bucky here.


End file.
